


Coffee cups and Phonecalls

by Chu



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chu/pseuds/Chu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the same every morning, or at least every morning for the last month or so that he had decided to walk to work and pick up a cup of tea en route.</p><p>[Coffee shop AU ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee cups and Phonecalls

“Here you are. Hot green tea. No cold water added, and one question. Are you going to call me today..?”  
“Thank you for the tea. Here is the money. Keep the change.”  
“That wasn’t an answer~”  
“I am aware. Have a nice day.”

It was the same every morning, or at least every morning for the last month or so that he had decided to walk to work and pick up a cup of tea en route. The coffee shop he usually went to on his way to work had closed, unfortunately, and Masato had been pressed to find a new one. It was easy enough, there were so many on the route he took these days that he could have gone into a different one every day of the week before he even needed to debate repeating himself. Even then he probably could have picked one road different and managed a good four days more at least, but for some reason, however, he had picked this one. On the very first day he had gone inside, and that was that. 

It did not look that much from the outside, but once you stepped through the door it had seemed at once like a nice place. It was smaller than some of the others. The decor was inviting. Warm, dark colours softened the walls and gave the whole place an almost homely feel and he found it quite appealing and comfortable. Not that he ever had his drink as anything but ‘to go’, but it was a nice fact none the less. If he had wanted to stay, he felt that he would quite probably have enjoyed his time there. The service was friendly, his drink, on that first day, had been handed over with a smile and the wish of a good day and of course, probably most importantly, the blend of tea was excellent. There had been nothing to complain about, so why on earth would he bother wasting his time trying one of the many others? If you first choice worked, after all, you might as well stick with it. 

So that began his new pattern. Each time he walked to work he would make a point of going there. And each time he did, with a few a very, very few exceptions, the same man would serve him his drink. The same man with his impossibly bright blue eyes, and a smile that… Hm. He didn’t really want to dwell on it too much… but if he really had to think about it, then he would say that it was somewhere between charmingly confident, and irritatingly self assured. With a just a very slight hint of… something else beside it. Yes. That seemed an accurate enough description. Though most days it lent slightly more towards the annoying side of the spectrum… if only because it was becoming increasingly hard not to smile at him in return...

He had tried to ignore it, that appealing smile. He was doing an excellent job of it really. Ignoring the smile, ignoring… him; the smiling man at the coffee shop. He certainly shouldn’t pay someone who was brazen enough to write their number on his take away cup every time they met any attention at all… That would just encourage them. Right? Yes. Attention could only be a bad thing… Even if that particular someone did have an unfortunately captivating smile at his disposal… and blue eyes that would have been at home in the midday sky. 

Ugh. He needed to stop. He only knew his name for heavens sake! What kind of foolishness was this? What good was a name? You knew nothing about someone from merely a name. Nothing about their likes, dislikes, beliefs or ambitions. You could not know what made them smile or frown. You could not tell if they were relaxed or highly strung! You knew nothing at all! Just a name…. 

His name was Ren, however. It seemed a nice enough name. Easy to recall, that was for sure… He had picked it up from the gold coloured name badge the other man wore. That was all though. He knew his name, and the blond… Oh yes, he was blond. Dark, honey blond at that… Dark honey blond with just the slightest wave to the ends of his hair. It looked soft. He imagined it would be soft… but anyway, that was decidedly beside the point. The blond knew his name, but again, that was it. And that was only from the number of times he had written it on his cup. It was an entirely strange situation, really… and he found Ren to be strangely persistent. 

Most people would have given up by this point, surely? After receiving no answer. No response. Barely any reaction and of course no call, would you not have given up? Would you not have stopped writing your number on the stupid paper take out cups? Would it not have been enough of a knock to your self esteem to render persistence pointless? He would certainly have thought so. He would not have persisted after the first refusal. He had hardly been impolite at the time, to be honest he had not noticed the number on the cup until he had reached work… but he certainly had not called. The again… he had gone back… perhaps that was it? Was his turning up there every day rather than choosing to go somewhere else enough of a… positive response to give Ren hope? Mn. Perhaps he should try somewhere else…? But honestly… he had begun to almost look forward to the strange addition to his morning tea, and the question that accompanied it on occasion.

On occasions such as today. The question hung in the air as he turned away, and he knew without looking that black numbers adorned the side of his cup, just under his own name. As ever he had turned to walk out of the small coffee shop without so much as a glance back over his shoulder, he made no move to even look down at the cup, nor back at the blond, at least until he reached the door. As he pulled it open he would allow himself just a brief glance over at the… admittedly very handsome barista, merely catching his eye for a moment before letting himself out back onto the street and the other men and women making the morning rush to their doubtlessly very important destinations. A few weeks back he would not have admitted that he even found the blond… Ren… even passingly interesting to look at, but perhaps the constant smiles and attention were starting to work on him, just a little. 

Regardless of that potential alteration of sentiment on his part, however, he had reached the office and this was neither the time or the place to be distracted by such foolish thoughts. He had work to do. He could put them out of his mind until he found himself at his leisure again, and comfortably settled at home. That way… he would not need to explain the appearance of a slightly ridiculous smile on his lips to any of his co-workers ever again. Not that it was any of their business really… 

It was hardly his fault he did not smile often in general… and it was equally hardly his fault that that obnoxiously attractive smile that he found himself presented with at least four days out of seven was quite… infectious. It could hardly be said to be entirely his fault that it flitted into his mind a couple of times a day. It was… a very nice smile, however… Augh. He pushed the thought from his head once again and settled himself down at his desk. There were more important things to think about just now and he needed to make sure he focused on them. They were deeply pressing matters, after all. Important things such a list of calls he had to make, and the overflowing state of his decidedly full intray. 

It was a strange situation no matter what way he looked at it. He was not prone to finding people… physically appealing,even in passing. He was certainly unused to then beginning to find them interesting based simply on that fact and more or less nothing else. Did this make him shallow? This interest he had found himself forming? He knew nothing about ‘Ren’ after all… Perhaps they would prove to have absolutely nothing in common whatsoever? It could be a complete disaster… Yet uncharacteristically for him, he actually found he wanted to speak to him. He wanted to… get to know him. Perhaps actually speaking with him sometime would not be such a bad thing? Perhaps it could even prove to be quite nice? Situations such as ‘dating’ and the like where more or less anathema to him, but… there was just something about this one, this unusually charming stranger that actually made him think that he might not find it to be so.. bad after all. 

If there was one thing Masato could pride himself on, however, it was his self restraint. He was able to focus on his work and put pretty well each and every other thought out of his mind. Consequently he was well and truly settled at home before he allowed any of the more frivolous fancies of the day to actually intrude upon his mind. They were still slightly disquieting, but in truth were far easier to deal with once he was seated at his ease on his comfortable sofa. Carefully he tugged a torn off section of paper cup out of his bag, smoothing his fingers thoughtfully over it as his eyes fixed on it quite intently. 

The vivid black marks clearly displayed the same number he had been given over and over again. After a month he could nearly remember it digit for digit. His expression was troubled. Was this really a good idea? Was this really something that he would do? It was… impulsive. It could backfire… But. Mmm. Many people did say that sometimes you have to take a risk to get ahead… Life was short, no? And… he supposed that sometimes you could be guilty of playing things too safe. Perhaps… his life was a little lonely. A little quiet… a little boring? With that in mind he picked up his phone and carefully keyed in the digits, pressing it to his ear and all but holding his breath as he waited for the ringing to cease. Voice mail or an answer… They were the two options here. He could not honestly tell which one he was hoping for… 

“Hello..?”  
He nearly dropped the phone, surprisingly startled by the voice from the other end, which actually had to prompt a second time to regain his attention.  
“Hello? Anyone there?” The blond sounded understandably perplexed. He needed to pull himself together.  
“Ah. Hello.”  
“Hello…?” His tone was still confused. “Who’s this?” Masa himself was starting to find his feet, however.  
“Mn. You spend weeks handing out your number, then do not recognise my voice when I call? How many of those cups have you handed out?” His tone was very slightly playful.  
“Hey, I don’t make a habit if tha- Wait. Masato…?” There was disbelief in Ren’s tone. “Really..?”  
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Would you… like to meet me for tea tomorrow? I suppose that would be the best way for you to find out for sure..?”


End file.
